The Thirteenth Night: Nocturne
by DezoPenguin
Summary: Continuing the series after the anime, Shido's newfound relationship with Riho brings him across the trail of a tragic musician and the night breed that has infected her life.
1. Chapter 1

Through the full-length glass walls of the nineteenth-floor penthouse, the waning moon spilled its light. No electricity dueled with its brightness, only long taper candles in sconces of silver filigree. The most elaborate was a five-branched candelabrum set on the room's single focus point, a glossy black grand piano. That the room was spacious enough not to be dominated by the instrument said a great deal about its owner's success.

From the piano, a gentle melody floated, harmony weaving in deftly to create an image through the music, soft and relaxing. Suddenly, with a furious scream, two small fists crashed down on the keys to send up a blaring discord.

"Hanae?"

"It's all wrong!" exclaimed the player. She was a slender woman in her early thirties whose hair just brushed her collarbones. She had long, slender fingers, the kind most people associated with gifted artists, but they were clenched so tightly they were turning white. "I try and try, but nothing comes right!"

The man rushed forward. He set the cup and saucer he held down on the piano, using a coaster placed there so it wouldn't mar the surface.

"Hanae..."

He put his hands gently on her shoulders.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Seiichi," Hanae cried, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I can play, but whenever I try to create something new, it is as if my soul is empty. There is no spark, no passion, nothing of myself to put into the music!"

She pounded the keyboard again; Seiichi gently turned her away from it towards him, then slid his hands down her arms and urged her fingers open. This wasn't the first such occurrence he'd experienced, and it always worried him. He was afraid that Hanae would hurt herself in one of her passionate outbursts.

"Hanae, you're brilliant, you know that," he told her.

"Once, maybe. Once I was able to take my soul and make it sing. I would sit at the piano on moonlit nights and music would come spilling out of me. My hopes, my fears, my dreams, all of it given voice."

The tears started to flow as Seiichi held her, acutely aware of his own helplessness.

"Now there's _nothing_. My heart, my soul haven't changed, but I can't do it any more. I can't get my feelings _out_. I...I don't know what I'll do if I can't create any more, Seiichi. I _have_ to get it back."

-X X X-

"I must admit, Riho, that you surprise me," Tatsuhiko Shido said. "I wouldn't have expected Hanae Matsuura to be to your taste."

The statement meant more than it seemed on its surface, because very little surprised Shido any more. That was one of the side effects of being a centuries-old vampire; after a few dozen decades, one felt that one had seen it all.

Then again, Riho always found ways to surprise him. Most of all, she surprised him almost daily just by _being_ there. She was a vampire, too, changed by Shido himself as she lay dying. It had taken him quite some time to recognize that she had not begged him to make her like him out of a fear of death, a panic brought on by the moment, but from the desire to _be with him_. What he'd dismissed as a schoolgirl crush while she'd been alive had been a much deeper feeling. After her conversion he'd tried to hold her at arm's length, to reduce her emotional dependance on him, but it had finally been brought home that all he was doing was to ignore her feelings, her needs.

In short, that he was making the _exact same mistake_ that his own vampiric sire, Cain, had made. Cain had ignored Shido's feelings, tried to define the relationship between them based on his own ideas of what was good for Shido, and it had driven the former lovers apart. Shido had even thought he'd killed Cain, a belief that had proven erroneous.

Cain had brought home to Shido just how wrong the younger vampire was. In a way, Shido supposed he ought to be grateful, but he wasn't. The thought that Cain was still out there in the night was too frightful for ironic humor.

"Yayoi lent me some of Ms. Matsuura's albums," Riho explained. "She'd been playing them on her car stereo one day when she gave me a ride. That's how I first heard it."

Shido had a point. He fit in well with the stylish jazz club. Tall and handsome with long silver-white hair tied back behind the nape of his neck, his looks, his apparent age, and the slightly archaic three-piece suits and string ties he favored all suited the mood, the history of the music. Riho, on the other hand, would not only look like a high-school girl throughout her eternal life but had been undead for only a year. A girl her age would be expected to be enthralled by the latest rock or pop idols, or something indie-flavored if her tastes ran to counterculture. She wouldn't be expected to be eager to join him in the small, intimate surroundings of a jazz club, let alone to have suggested it.

She looked lovely, he thought as they were shown to their table. Her brown hair was tied up in its usual foxtail, knotted by her trademark bow at the top of her head and then falling to her waist, but her formal indigo-blue dress and white gloves looked elegant and beautiful, though with a hint of the schoolgirl-dressed-up-for-the-prom. In the low lighting it was hard to spot the unnatural paleness of her skin. They looked for all the world like a normal couple out for a date.

"She's really great, though," Riho continued. "It's like every song tells a different story, even without words. I never thought I'd like this kind of music, but Ms. Matsuura is really incredible." She looked up at Shido, her soft brown eyes wide. "Thank you so much for taking me, Mr. Shido. I...I know it must seem silly to you, going out on a date like this..."

"Not at all. I enjoy spending time with you, and I'm glad to make you happy however I can."

As a vampire Riho couldn't actually blush, but she did everything else but. She was spared having to respond by the dimming of the house lights and the glow of the spotlight on the club's stage. A round of applause greeted Hanae Matsuura as she seated herself at the piano. Without a word or even a look in the audience's direction, she began to play.

Riho was right, Shido decided. Hanae was an exceptional musician and songwriter. In his long years of wandering he'd heard music of all levels of ability, from works of genius to worthless noise that spoke to no one. This woman was undeniably an artist. While her music might not suit everyone's tastes, the talent behind it was obvious, its force inescapable.

Yet to Shido's keen senses, something seemed wrong. Hanae's slender, delicate fingers were almost _too_ slender, her body _too_ frail. Even in the dark the vampire could see where cosmetics had been applied to hide shadows beneath her eyes, and the tension in her face that was at odds with the emotions expressed so clearly in the music she played. Something was wrong. But then, pain and suffering were part of having a human heart. Only a monster, unable to love or to feel, was immune to tragedy.

"It's strange, though," Riho mentioned during a break between songs. "Everything she's played so far is from one of her albums, at least two years old. I wonder why she hasn't played anything new."

"Maybe she doesn't have any new music," Shido said with a shrug. It seemed the most obvious answer to him.

"Usually a musician goes on tour to promote a new album, Mr. Shido. That's why I thought there'd be new songs." Riho sighed, then smiled. "It's really great seeing her play in person, though. I shouldn't let my expectations get in the way."

With that she followed her own advice, and leaning forward with her chin propped on her palms proceeded to enjoy the rest of the performance. When it was done, Hanae stood, bowed, and left the stage to a round of enthusiastic applause. Riho hopped to her feet as soon as the artist disappeared through the stage door.

"I have to get her autograph, Mr. Shido!" she exclaimed. Shido smiled indulgently.

"Why not?"

The two vampires slipped through the club to the stage door. A tall man in a suit, not quite a bouncer but near enough, barred their path.

"Sorry, folks, but this area's for employees or Ms. Matsuura's people only."

"Oh, but please, I really wanted to meet her," Riho said, her eyes wide as she looked up at the doorman and her lower lip trembling. "She's one of my very favorite performers!"

"Well, I..." The doorman rubbed the back of his neck, obviously wavering. The club probably didn't cater to many girls Riho's age, so he wasn't used to chasing them off. "Oh, hell, a cute girl like you, why not? I'm sure she'll be glad to meet a fan."

"Thank you!" Riho exclaimed. "Come on, Mr. Shido, let's go see her." With that, she sailed past the doorman with Shido in her wake.

"That was very good," he said when the door closed behind them.

"Ms. Hanae's autograph is worth hard work," she told him. "Even if I have to act cute!"

"You _are_ cute, Riho," he said, lightly caressing the back of her head. She looked up at him, surprised. Shido supposed he wasn't the best at putting his true feelings into words. Too many years alone could do that to a man.

The stage door apparently led to the same back section as the office door on the other side of the club, where a couple of corridors led to the private areas. There was a bend in the corridor almost at once, then a long stretch of hall. A door was open about halfway down, and raised voices coming from it made Shido and Riho stop before barging in.

"We're not running a charity here, Hanae," a man barked. "You're not a pop star who can fill a stadium with ticket-buying, merchandise-hungry fans. It isn't worth our time and energy to keep subsidizing you if you aren't going to deliver on your contract."

"Mr. Ohta, I've told you--" This speaker was female.

"Yeah. You've said it again and again. 'I'll be writing some new songs soon, Mr. Ohta.' 'Just a little more time, Mr. Ohta.' Do you know how long it's been since your last release? One year and seven months--and _that_ was just a collection of new arrangements to old songs! It's been nearly three years since you've written any new music!"

"Why don't you just leave her alone, Ohta?" roared a second man, his voice a bit higher-pitched than Ohta's, whether by natural tone or from his excitement. "Hanae is an artist. She can't just crank out work like a factory assembly line. It takes time!"

"At this point, it appears to be taking more than just time!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what it sounds like. The company doesn't care about artistic sensibility, Mr. Iwadare; it cares about money. Money that it's throwing away. Money that it's not seeing by way of profits."

Shido and Riho glanced at one another. It was obvious that if they kept on, they'd end up in the middle of an ugly scene.

"Maybe we'd just better go," she said quietly. "After this, Ms. Hanae won't want to talk to fans anyway."

He was about to agree with her when it became too late. Another person rounded the bend at the far end of the corner, a college-age girl with reddish-blonde braids and square-framed glasses.

"Oh! Are you here to talk to Ms. Matsuura?" she asked, calling out to them.

"What's that?" Ohta's voice called from within the room. "Meiko, is that you?"

A moment later, he came out of the dressing room, a tall man in his forties in a neatly tailored, expensive suit and gray peppering his dark hair. He glanced around himself, taking in the presence of others.

"Meiko, who are these people?" he barked.

"I--I don't know; I just got here myself, and--"

"Reporters?" Ohta snapped suspiciously, swiveling towards Shido.

"Not at all," the vampire answered smoothly. "We were in the audience for Ms. Matsuura's show and wanted to pay our respects."

"Apparently, people don't understand the concept of private around here. What's the point of putting someone on the door if he isn't going to do his job?"

By that time Hanae and another man, probably the one Ohta had called Iwadare unless there was someone still in the room, had come out to see what the fuss was. The man was about Ohta's height but younger and not so broad. He wore slacks, a plum-colored shirt and a sweater vest, the kind of dressy-casual outfit that tended to fade into the woodwork, but he wasn't lacking in spirit.

"What's that, Ohta? Afraid that people will find out how your company treats Hanae?"

Ohta rounded on him as if he was going to strike the other man, but held his temper, though his hand flexed threateningly.

"I'm tired of putting up with you," he growled. "You're her boyfriend, Iwadare, not her agent or even her husband. Play the heroic prince rescuing his lady from the ogre with someone who cares." He whirled back to Shido and Riho. "As for you two, this area is off-limits to the public. There's a time and place for everything and this isn't it, as I'm sure you can tell."

Shido nodded politely.

"Of course, we have no desire to intrude." He turned to Hanae and said, "I'm sorry if we disturbed you, Ms. Matsuura. We both enjoyed your performance very much."

He took Riho's hand and led her back up the corridor. The raised voices started almost immediately behind them.

"Oooh, that Mr. Ohta makes me so mad!" the girl erupted. "Treating Ms. Hanae like that! If I was Mr. Iwadare, I'd have knocked him down right then and there!"

"He was certainly rude," Shido said distantly, "though I suppose he may have had cause. We don't know what the previous dealings of those people have been like."

"Mr. Shido, there's no excuse for treating an artist as if she can produce great works on demand, then holding it against her when she doesn't."

"Perhaps not," he allowed.

"Doesn't it bother you at all?" There was a hint of a whine in her voice.

"There's something else that bothers me a lot more." His eyes narrowed. "I caught the scent of darkness coming off those people."

"You mean...a night breed?"

"Yes. I don't know which one--or ones--of them it is, or how far things have gone, but at least one of those four is being drawn into the darkness."


	2. Chapter 2

The strobing red and blue lights of the police cars cast the nighttime in alternating auras, first of hellish torment and then of frozen indifference, or so Inspector Tsugawa thought as he approached the scene. Yellow barricades were in place, as were the inevitable morbid spectators, though the officers were doing a good job keeping things clear. Tsugawa flashed his credentials and was greeted with a crisp salute.

"So what do we have here, Officer? The dispatch said one body, male, suspected homicide."

"Yes, sir." The uniformed officer let him past the tape. Forensics staff were already at work processing the scene with their usual quiet competence, interspersed by poor attempts at humor from Dr. Ogata. "Hiro Anzai, age twenty-six, architect by profession according to his business cards. He was found by a couple who'd been in that coffee shop there and were taking a shortcut through this alley to where they'd parked."

Tsugawa glanced back at the _kissaten_, getting the lay of the neighborhood, then nodded.

"The couple is over there, waiting to give a statement," the officer continued.

"Good, thank you."

The inspector stepped forward so he could get a look at the body.

"Not a pretty picture, is it?" Ogata said. "Murderers are such nuisances that way, never giving a thought for those of us who have to clean up after them."

A number of people, Tsugawa included, found Ogata's less-than-decorous manner irritating, even irreverent, but for all his faults he was an excellent forensic physician, both at the autopsy table and in the field. Nor was his judgment wrong in this case. Hiro Anzai did not make for a pretty picture.

The dead man was sprawled in the middle of the alley, near the mouth, and Tsugawa immediately began wondering why he was there. Had he been forced that way, or had he gone willingly with his killer, or had he simply been passing that way for his own reasons like the couple that had found the body, and been ambushed? Questions that would have to be answered. His face was twisted into a rictus of fear, his eyes wide and staring, almost swollen in their sockets like a frog's.

"Quite curious, really. He wasn't shot, he wasn't stabbed, there are no indications of blunt force trauma, and he does not appear to have been asphyxiated. However, his hands make it quite clear that extreme violence was involved."

Ogata pointed with his pen, but it was hardly necessary to call the inspector's attention to the injuries. Each of the dead man's hands had been bent back on itself so that it appeared that the fingers of each hand were clutching the wrist they were attached to. In essence, the hands had been turned inside out.

"It was done ante-mortem, from what I can tell under these conditions. See how the nails are biting into the skin, drawing blood? The pain must have been excruciating, yet no one heard him call out, because he'd been dead at least two hours before he was found. Personally, there's no way I could have...handled...the pain."

Tsugawa ignored the pun.

"Move this case to the top of your list, Doctor," he instructed Ogata.

"Of course, but why the rush?"

"I want to go to bed knowing if I have to solve this case, or just hand it off to the NOS."

Tsugawa looked at the corpse's hands again, then flexed his own fingers as if making sure they were still intact. Of the two options he'd mentioned to Ogata, his money was on the latter.

-X X X-

The pink and gold light of sunset streamed through the gaps in the Venetian blinds and threw their shadows across the carpet. The offices of the Tatsuhiko Shido Private Detective Agency were a bit dilapidated, with cracks running through the plaster, faded patterns on the furniture, blinds that didn't quite close, and a battered desk scarred by years of use in various firms. Still, more than any place Shido had lived for a long time, it was home. "Where the heart was," as the saying went.

"You got to see Hanae Matsuura last night? I'm jealous!"

"Mr. Shido took me," Riho said proudly.

"What an idiot! They're sleeping together and she still calls him _Mr._ Shido."

_That_ was Guni, a fairy who'd years ago attached herself to Shido as a kind of sidekick or familiar. There was nothing of the children's picture-book fairy about her beyond her foot-tall height, not unless one's picture-book featured fairies with bright green skin, bat wings instead of butterfly, and a sassy, sharp-edged tongue.

"Hmph! Unlike some people, I was raised to have manners," Riho snapped back.

"Take it easy, girls," the woman who'd originally spoken said with a laugh. Yayoi Matsunaga was tall and beautiful, if prone to skirts that were a bit too tight and shirts cut a bit too low than suited a government employee. Shido supposed he could understand it; Yayoi had spent much of her life, from childhood to her early twenties, with her face wrapped in bandages to conceal horrific burn scars. Now that she was strikingly attractive it wasn't surprising she'd go out of her way to enjoy making a positive impact on people. "I'm glad you had fun. Shido needs reminding every now and again that there's more to life than drinking blood and hunting night breeds."

"Like donating blood and hunting night breeds?" Guni quipped.

"You know, Guni, my marksmanship has been slipping lately. What I need is practice on a small, moving target."

"Shutting up!" Guni flitted to the top of a floor lamp and perched there.

"I need a boyfriend," Yayoi decided. "When I start living vicariously through the undead, I know I'm in trouble."

"Actually, Yayoi," Shido said, "the night breeds did manage to intrude on our happiness last night." He went on to describe the scene they'd interrupted, and what he'd sensed.

"I still think it's that Mr. Ohta," Riho declared. "He was so nasty that it's easy to imagine him as a breed."

"He sounds like a real winner," agreed Guni. "I'd hate to have to work with someone like that."

"So you'd like me to look into this for you, Shido?"

"Yes, please." As a senior field investigator for the NOS, Yayoi had access to considerably wider-ranging sources of data than did Shido. Her agency had nationwide jurisdiction over supernatural matters, especially the night breeds--creatures of darkness that longed for human bodies so they could enter the light but who sustained themselves by taking life. "We'll need background details on those four people, to help identify the breed, and also whether or not there have been recent breed incidents that tie in with the milieu. I'd like to save whomever it is if I can, but if the darkness has already taken hold of their soul, there will be no choice. I'd rather know if there's any hope right away, instead of having to find out in the middle of a battle."

The breeds weren't vampires, but the strongest ones could be powerful and dangerous. More than once a breed had put Shido's own life at risk, such as in the Yoko Asahima case, or the Ishida affair, and it would be better if he knew if he could fight all-out before encountering the creature.

Thinking of the fight with the breed possessing Yoko Asahina naturally led him to consider other aspects of the case. The aspiring young actress had made a "deal with the devil," willingly offering her body and soul to the night breed in exchange for the talent and charisma to become a star. She'd succumbed to the breed's darkness, though, murdering to feed its hunger for human flesh.

"I wonder," Shido remarked aloud, "if it could be the same."

"The same as what, Mr. Shido?"

"Yoko Asahina."

"You mean...that Ms. Hanae would have given herself to a breed? That's where her talent comes from?"

"Or that her 'composer's block' has driven her to call upon unnatural help. That's more likely; if her original successes were due to a breed, she wouldn't have gone so long now without new music."

"Unless it had left her," Yayoi said, probably thinking of the actress Yoko had claimed her devil from, but Shido knew that wasn't the case.

"No, that's not it. The darkness last night was fresh, not the lingering odor of past corruption," he said. "There's definitely a breed associated with one of those people."

"I'll make a few inquiries," Yayoi said. "The NOS gets copied on all suspicious incidents from the local police, so even if things haven't escalated to murder there might be a clue in our files."

"Thank you," Shido said.

"Maybe you've caught a break for us, by going on that date. If we can actually do something about the breed before it corrupts its host into a killer, we might be able to save them as well as future victims."

Shido nodded, but somehow, he doubted it. It was far too easy to lure humans into darkness. Greed, ambition, anger, and despair all beckoned to the night breeds, and it was all too easy to lure a tainted soul into acting on those emotions. Hanae, Seiichi, or Ohta...whomever had been caught by the breed was probably lost to the light.

-X X X-

"It's useless!" Hanae screamed. She stood up from the piano so sharply that the back of her thighs struck the bench and tipped it over onto the floor with a crash. Seiichi rushed into the music room at the sound, and watched her lash out with a swing of her forearm, sweeping the candelabrum off the piano. The fragile ornament hit the floor hard; one of its arms snapped off and the unlit candles were scattered everywhere.

"Hanae!"

She slammed her fists down on the piano top, her frustration so intense that it demanded a physical outlet. Once, twice she pounded her hands against the hard wood, and then Seiichi was there, grasping her wrists so she couldn't continue.

"Stop it, Hanae; you'll hurt yourself! Your hands..."

"What does it matter? I might as well smash my hands, break them. They're no good to me anyway! What's the point of protecting them when they have nothing to play?"

Blood trickled down her bare arm from where she'd cut herself on the silver filigree. It felt good she thought. Physical pain to balance out what she was feeling inside. When the blood touched his fingers, Seiichi loosened his grip in surprise, and she pulled free of him.

"Hanae, you've cut yourself?"

"It's just a scratch. Do you think I care about a little cut like that? It's gone, Seiichi. I try to play, but nothing comes. There's nothing inside of me." She held her hands out in front of her, staring at them; they trembled faintly. "What do these hands matter now? Songs I've already written, anyone can play them. That just takes talent and practice. What matters is what comes from _me_. _New_ music that doesn't exist until I give it life, and it's not there!"

"This is that bastard Ohta's fault," Seiichi growled. "Constantly pushing at you, pressuring you. How could you be expected to create with him snarling at you that way?"

He folded her petite form in his arms, but she only laughed bitterly and pushed him away.

"You don't understand at all, do you? Ohta's demands don't matter. He's always been like that. His soul is all about money and nothing else. Music is only the way in which he earns it--other people's music, since he has none of his own. The problem isn't his demands, the problem is that I have nothing to give! I have to find it again, Seiichi. If I can't find it I...I'm nothing!"

She brushed past him, suddenly bolting for the door.

"Hanae!"

"I...I have to go!"

A couple of seconds slow, he followed her out of the music room, but she was already running for the apartment door, flinging it open and charging out without even stopping to grab her coat or purse. Two droplets of blood had fallen from her arm to the floor just inside the foyer; they gleamed against the hardwood like scarlet-tinted pearls. Seiichi could only stare helplessly at the closed door.

"Hanae..." he whispered, feeling the weight of all the pain he could not seem to help her bear.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is the third incident," Yayoi said, looking down at the sprawled corpse. Rain drummed off her umbrella, hissing faintly as it struck puddles on the street. Shido was very much aware of her presence so near in the chilly weather, the pulse of her life warm against the humid air. "She's been dead about two hours, according to the doctor. We suspect it could be a breed's work, but we're not sure yet."

She pointed at the dead girl's hands with her penlight, the narrow alley dark enough so that even in the late-afternoon twilight the circle of light it cast showed up. Shido, of course, did not need the help to see perfectly in the dark, but the light changed the color and tint of what he saw.

"The mutilations were identical in the other two cases, bones broken in the hands so the fingers could curl backwards, as if each hand had a grip on its own wrist. The medical evidence suggests it was done while the victim was still alive. All three bodies were found in alleys like this one, nearby but not actually in a crowded area. That's why the NOS concluded it was more likely than not a breed."

Shido nodded.

"If a human killer had done this, the victims would have screamed. Someone would have heard the killing," he agreed. It had been only one day since he'd asked Yayoi to look into recent killings in the NOS files, and he had his answer now, whether a human heart had abandoned its light. Unless, of course, a second breed was currently active in the city.

"There were no signs that any victim was gagged, no bruising around the mouth, no traces of adhesive from tape. It's possible, barely, that they could have been killed in other places and their bodies dumped. Unlike breeds, human serial killers often take precautions to hide their guilt. Of course, low-level breeds aren't much more than animals, anyway."

Shido was more interested in the hands. So often the violence inflicted by a breed killer reflected the desires of its host. The one that had victimized Yayoi's sister, for example, had skinned its victim's faces in a twisted repetition of how Kasumi had accidentally burned Yayoi.

"Hanae Matsuura is a pianist," he said. That, of course, wasn't news to Yayoi, but he felt compelled to mention it. "This girl's hands were the only thing mutilated. They've all but been turned inside out, turned on themselves."

"The way you might say Hanae's hands have turned on her, given what you overheard."

"That's what I was thinking."

It was such a pathetic sight, the petite form laying face-down, hair splayed out and glistening in the rain. A young woman like that, it couldn't help but remind the vampire of Riho. _His_ Riho, whom he'd brought into eternal night to keep her from ending up like this, a wasted life, another light snuffed out. It awoke the anger inside of him; as much as Shido hated the corruptors, the deceivers of the darkness, this was different. The stakes weren't abstract, now that he had someone to protect.

This was why, for so long, he'd held himself apart from humans. No contact meant no loss, no betrayal, no risks. There were other reasons now, but this one he felt keenly.

"When you were backstage, could you smell this?" Yayoi asked. "The blood on them?"

"No, only the presence of the breed. I'm not surprised; this murder doesn't appear to be for blood or flesh. I don't think she was killed physically at all."

"That tallies with the autopsy reports on the last two kills. The actual cause of death was probably the pain in combination with the emotional stress of the circumstances. Their bodies went into an extreme state of shock, and they died."

"Instead of sustaining itself by drinking the blood or by cannibalism, it takes the victims' fear and terror, like some kind of psychic leech," Shido concluded.

"But we can't tie it to Hanae Matsuura and her entourage," Yayoi sighed. "She's a prominent musician and her recording company has a lot of clout. If I get the NOS into a scandal with the media without solid evidence backing it up, my career will need you to raise it up from the dead."

Part of him understood her reluctance. Though she was a breed hunter, she was also a government agent. She'd almost crashed and burned in front of the NOS bureaucracy once before by defending him. He didn't want to put her through that again.

He didn't want any more bodies found with their hands bent in reverse, either.

"If you don't want to get involved," he snapped at her, "then I can handle this matter on my own."

"That isn't what I meant. I'm only saying that we need some evidence before we turn famous and influential people's lives upside down."

"Agent Matsunaga," one of the uniformed officers said, walking up to them. He was young, fresh-faced, and looked a bit queasy. This was probably the first time he'd been involved in a case of violent death.

"Yes, Officer?"

"I thought you might want to see this. We found her purse about ten feet away from the body, there." He pointed back over his shoulder. "Her wallet was in it."

He held up a leather billfold in his latex-gloved hands, then let it flip open. Her identification was prominent behind a clear plastic window.

"That face...I know that girl," Shido said. "Is forensics done with the body?"

"Yes, go ahead."

He squatted down, put a hand on her shoulder, and turned her up onto her side. Hair tumbled partly across her face, plastering itself to the wet skin, but it was obviously the same girl as in the photo.

"Meiko Shidare," Yayoi read.

"She was at the club, backstage."

"There's a few business cards here; I guess she didn't have a separate card-case." Yayoi plucked one out. It was bad police procedure, but night breeds didn't leave fingerprints. "It says here that she was the special assistant to Kazuo Ohta, assistant vice president in charge of talent management for Excite! Records." She sounded almost smug about it. "It looks like _now_ we can act on those suspicions of yours."

Shido looked down at the girl's face, at her blank and staring eyes.

"It's too high a cost," he said with a sigh.

-X X X-

"So you're saying there's nothing," Ohta summed up the past five minutes of conversation. "No projected time-frame for a new work, no completed songs for a single release on the way to that album."

Hanae shivered in her chair.

"N-no..." she managed to say.

The record company executive leaned back in his seat.

"Let me be brutally honest with you. This is a niche market for Excite! Records. We can afford to carry an unprofitable artist who raises critical acclaim because it serves as positive advertising for the entire company and as an investment in a possible breakthrough. We can certainly support one of the top sellers in the market. You were each of these, once. Now, you're neither. You don't produce anything new. We could pair you with another songwriter, but not only have you always rejected that in the past but your name recognition doesn't justify the cost, Two years ago, maybe, but now we'd be better off developing a new talent."

"You're letting me go."

Ohta shrugged.

"It's a business matter. There's no point in wasting any further front-end money, promotional costs, or otherwise on you. Our business is music, Hanae, and you aren't making any."

"Please, Mr. Ohta, I...I'm _sure_ that I'll be able to work through this. I'm positive that I'll have something soon."

"I hope you do. If you have new music, we'll be willing to sit down with you and negotiate a new deal, but that's then. For now, it's over."

His words, their finality, echoed through her like a thunderous closing chord. Hanae wanted to weep, to plead, to scream, but she could do nothing. She could only stand numbly as rage and despair warred within her, then turned and left the room.

Seiichi saw that something was wrong at once and rose from his seat in the outer office. He moved towards her, extending a hand, but she brushed it aside. She couldn't deal with it now, emotions, caring.

"Hanae?" He was insistent, though. He loved her, she knew he did, and he would not give in when he saw her in pain. "What's wrong? What did that bastard say?"

"I...he..."

"Please tell me, Hanae." His hands lay lightly on her shoulders, warm and caring, and yet all she felt was cold, driving into her soul. With a twist of her upper body she shrugged him off.

"Nothing," she snapped. "He told me nothing that I didn't already know!"

"What?" he stammered.

"A musician that doesn't play music? That isn't a musician at all. It's _nothing_..._I'm_ nothing."

With a cry, she ripped away from his clutch and dashed for the outer door. Even the secretary looked up in shock as she crashed through it.

"Hanae!" Seiichi shouted. Of course he would follow, she thought. It's what he would always do, for all that she couldn't understand. In the corridor she brushed past two people stepping out of the elevator, nearly colliding with a tall, dark-haired woman. Hanae stepped into the elevator car and slapped at the button for the lobby as the tears began to flow. As the door shut, she sagged back in the corner, trembling, and stared down at her hands. They were twisted almost like claws. They'd always been the way she communicated, how she'd shown her soul to the world since she was a little girl. Now they had betrayed her.

-X X X-

Kazuo Ohta was fuming as he parked his car after the drive home. He was over an hour late leaving his office and had been forced to cancel an evening appointment. Dinner and drinks with several of his business associates were the kind of thing that kept deals flowing smoothly, and he'd been forced to put them off, back out of his obligation, all because of that bitch from the NOS.

What did he have to do with Meiko Shidare, anyway? The girl had been his assistant, a glorified gofer not even as important or reliable as his secretary. He'd barely remembered her last name, let alone known anything about her personal life.

Yet that Agent Matsunaga and that boy-toy she'd had in tow had insisted on forcing him to wait around for their interview. Then, she'd left after introducing the man, Shido, not thirty seconds after she'd arrived! Fobbed him off on some flunky as if he, Ohta, had been the nobody! Though there had been something about that Shido which had made Ohta keep his complaints to himself, some indication that it wouldn't be a good idea to make him angry. Ohta had a good sense for that, mostly from dealing with so-called "talent" over the years who would flare up at the least little affront to their ego.

No, better to smile and pour oil on troubled waters, while the idols burned out their year or two of star quality , then usher them out the door. They were, after all, infinitely replaceable. This detective was the same. Smile, nod, and pretend to care, and he'd be gone all the faster. It didn't help his frustration to have to contain it, but at least he could reassure himself that _he'd_ done the smart thing, that his problems were at least other people's fault.

Besides, at least there was a silver lining, he told himself as he walked across the parking lot to his building. If he hadn't been angry at waiting, he probably wouldn't have cut ties with Hanae Matsuura. He'd meant to before, but had kept giving her second chances, probably because she possessed genuine artistry instead of marketability and he felt sympathetic to that. Enough was enough, though. In truth, enough had been enough a year ago, since she was a niche product.

He reached into his pocket for the card key. The doorman would let Ohta in the front, but he didn't want to waste the time on the extra walk. The parking-lot door went right to the elevators for an easy trip. If only he didn't keep forgetting where he'd put that damn magnetic card...

"Hah! There you are," he said, finding it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Yesss, there you are," echoed a high-pitched, almost whistling voice, and then a crimson shape was hurtling through the air at him.


	4. Chapter 4

The night breed's attack took Ohta completely off-guard. He stood there, flat-footed and gaping, as death flew towards him. The thing looked like a twisted version of a skeleton from an old movie, as if somehow the bones had split apart and risen to the surface to form an armored shell for the body. The skeletal armor was a dull, rusty brown like a stain of old blood, while the flesh beneath was the bright scarlet of fresh-spilled.

Before the monster's bony claws could strike, a long tendril of the same red shade as Bloody-Bones itself coiled around its midsection, arresting its progress. The creature was pulled sideways, away from Ohta and into the parking lot. Ohta's gaze followed its progress as if mesmerized, and he saw that the tendril was in fact a long crimson whip, held in the hands of the silver-haired detective, Tatsuhiko Shido.

"Get inside the building, Mr. Ohta; I'll take care of this," he ordered. Energy like a blue flame rushed along the whip from his hands to the creature, and Bloody-Bones howled as the fiery aura engulfed it. "Go!" Shido roared, but Ohta seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Shido spun his body and snapped the whip, flinging the creature even farther away from Ohta. It crashed with terrific force into the back of a gold Lexus, driving into the trunk. _Sakamoto will be furious_, the thought skipped irreverently through his head. It was all so unreal, like being in a dream. Monsters trying to kill him, battling for his life...was he dreaming, after all? This couldn't be real, could it? The edges of his vision were hazy and clouded, a mist that drew itself inwards until it filled his sight, and Ohta slumped to the pavement in a dead faint.

"Why, vampire?" the night breed keened at Shido in its weird, high voice. "Why do you keep me from my prey?"

He'd been asked the question before, and his answer had not changed, not in the decades since he's abandoned his life with Cain.

"Because I still possess a human heart."

The breed rose to its feet, laughing eerily.

"A human heart? Then you have more to offer than _he _does!"

Its finger stabbed out, pointing at the prone Ohta. Suddenly the finger-bone launched outwards, the scarlet "flesh" extending itself so that the bony fingertip was the point of a deadly spear arrowing at Ohta's heart. With a movement too quick to see, though, Shido was there, blocking the way. He winced in pain as the bone drove itself into his left shoulder, but he knew from long experience that the wound was only temporary.

"Why? Why would you protect this devil? He drains the talent dry from those more skilled than he to line his pockets, then tosses them aside when he can no longer leech off them! He is as much a monster as you or I, only by his own will rather than from his nature!"

Bloody-Bones jerked its finger free, its hand snapping back to its original shape. Shido raised his right hand to his mouth and pierced his flesh with his fangs. Blood welled up from the wound, pooled in his palm, and Shido exerted his will. In another instant he held the hilt of an ornate crimson sword, the expression of his power as a vampire. Cain had taught him so long ago that, as vampires, their magic was of the blood and in the blood, and with enough will they could use that as a weapon as potent against supernatural foes as their speed and strength were against mortals.

"I told you," Shido said. "It's because I still possess a human heart!" He sprang towards the breed, swinging the bloodsword. "Whatever his crimes, no one deserves to be preyed upon for your twisted hungers!"

Shido's sword crashed against the breed's claws. The impact and the surge of power knocked Bloody-Bones back a half-step, as did each of Shido's next two blows. The breed tried to counterattack, using both hands to slash and cut, but Shido parried each in turn. It was clear that he was faster than it, stronger, and he knew that the breed felt it, too.

At the end of its rope, Bloody-Bones sprang back away from Shido, landing on the trunk of a glossy black Acura. Its fingertips launched at him, spearlike, but this time the vampire was ready and struck the hard points aside with his sword. The attack proved to be only a diversion, though, as with its free hand the breed struck downwards, ripping a rear wheel right off the car. It sprang again, hurling the wheel backhanded like a discus--but not at Shido.

Without hesitation the vampire spun and hurled the bloodsword. Like a missile it intersected the heavy wheel before it could reach Ohta, blasting the impromptu weapon into chunks of metal and rubber. When he looked back, Bloody-Bones was gone. The breed had fled, using Shido's immediate concern for a human life to escape.

Shido walked over to Ohta, taking out his cell phone as he did. Yayoi was the first number on his speed-dial.

"Shido?"

"I just fended off a breed attack on Ohta."

"What? Is he all right?"

He bent to check the man. His breathing and heartbeat were strong and steady; it was no more than a momentary faint.

"Yes, he just passed out from the shock. That probably makes it easier in the long run."

"Fewer explanations," Yayoi agreed. "But...you say the breed attacked Ohta, and I'm still following--"

"There's only one possibility left. I'll meet you at Hanae's home."

"Actually, I think I'm already on my way there now."

"That could complicate things," Shido said, worried.

"At least for once, we know what to expect going in."

-X X X-

Seiichi gasped in surprise when Hanae staggered rather than walked through the music room door. Her blouse was torn, the sleeve stained with blood, and her slacks were smeared with mud and grit.

"Hanae! My God, what happened to you?"

"I...I'm all right. It was such a stupid mistake."

"What happened?"

"I wasn't looking where I was going. Can you believe it? I was so upset when I left Excite! that I ran right out in the street at the end of the block without checking the light. Luckily, a young man grabbed my purse strap and pulled me back just in time, but the strap broke and I fell down." She set the purse down on the piano, its broken strap dangling over the edge to brush the keys. "I hit pretty hard, and the mud from this afternoon's rain ruined my pants."

"You've cut your arm," Seiichi pointed out. "We should get that looked at right away. Do you need a doctor?"

"I...I don't think so. It stings a little, that's all. I'll clean it up myself in the bathroom."

"Let me."

"It's not that bad, Seiichi, I--"

"Hanae." His hand clasped her unhurt wrist firmly. "Stop walking away from me. Don't you understand? I love you, Hanae. If you're in pain, I want to share it, to be there for you, to be someone you can turn to for support."

"Seiichi, it's not--"

"No!" He slammed his hand down onto the piano. "You keep doing this, Hanae! You take your suffering and you run off to be alone with it! We're supposed to be a couple. That means we share our problems just like we share our joys and dreams! I'm on your side, no matter what. You can turn to me when you're hurting. Don't you understand? When I see you sitting at the piano, wrestling with a song, when you feel like your hands are nothing but twisted betrayers that won't do what you need, I feel it too. It cuts right into my soul, knowing how badly you're hurt."

"But...Seiichi, how can you--"

He shook his head violently.

"I know that I can't fix all your problems. I can't wave my hand and make that creative spark come back by magic. But you don't have to bear that burden alone, either. I can help you bear it, even lift some of it from you."

His earnestness, the sudden strength of his insistence, was in some ways a little frightening, but his words touched her.

"Oh, Seiichi, I do rely on you, really I do, but there are some problems that can't be helped. Ohta...he cancelled our contract today. There will still be royalties for previous music, but without agency or promotional services, even if I do find the music again, it will be harder than ever to make a comeback."

"Ohta!" Seiichi snapped. "I knew he'd done something like that the instant I saw your face when you came out of his office." He released her and began to pace, crossing and recrossing the floor in quick, jerky steps. "I knew I was right! I should have..." He stopped, then spun to her, grasping her shoulders. "Don't worry, Hanae. Next time he won't be so lucky."

"Next time? Seiichi, what are you talking about? What next time?"

"I told you, I can help lift your burdens from you. I can do that now," he spoke eagerly. "I...I didn't know how at first; all I could do was vent some of the pain I felt, but now I understand! Now I know!"

"Seiichi, what do you mean? You're scaring me!"

He was talking more frantically now, a sheen of perspiration coating his face.

"It came to me. It felt my despair, how all I could do is watch you suffer without being able to help or comfort you, and it asks so little in return."

"It? What are you _saying_?"

"He's saying," a male voice interrupted, "that he's sold his soul to the darkness."

-X X X-

Seiichi's head swivelled around nearly a hundred and eighty degrees, far more than a human could turn. He glared with hatred at Shido.

"You! Why are you here? This is our home. Ours!"

From behind Shido and to his left Yayoi ordered Seiichi, "Let Ms. Matsuura go and step away from her, now." He didn't need to look to know that her gun was drawn and leveled at the breed-possessed man. Yayoi had followed Hanae from Excite! as Shido had shadowed Ohta, but it was the third person who'd proven to be the breed.

It was possibly the worst thing she could have said, Shido thought, though at least it made the inevitable confrontation come that much faster.

"No! You're trying to tear us apart! I won't let you take her from me!" He swept Hanae around so his body was between her and his pursuers, then turned to face them. "I'll kill you both!"

He began shifting, then, human becoming breed. His body became translucent crimson, clothes and hair merging into flesh. He roared in pain as his skeleton seemed to push itself up and outwards through his altered skin, emerging with a sick popping sound and settling into place. Hanae began to scream, pushing herself away towards the corner of the room.

"Be careful," Shido warned Yayoi. "It can project its claws like spears."

"Can't they all," she said dourly.

The breed reached down, seized the piano bench, and hurled it with freakish strength at Shido and Yayoi. Shido slashed out with the bloodsword, shattering the bench to splinters, but the attack was only a feint. Bloody-Bones had followed the bench, charging just after it, and as Shido's strike at the bench had carried him out of a guard position it lunged. Its left hand went for the sword, fingers elongating and coiling around the weapon to trap it while it drove its right hand towards Shido's exposed chest.

Yayoi's gun barked twice, the automatic hammering two NOS standard-issue rounds into the breed's shoulder and bicep, shattering bone armor and puncturing flesh. Each hollowpoint was itself silver and filled with silver nitrate besides, damaging and even potentially fatal to the night breeds. Simultaneously, Shido sent a surge of his power through his blood, blasting from the sword and destroying the hand that had been trying to disarm him. Bloody-Bones reeled away from the double attack, its back hitting the piano, and he slumped to the floor. Its body began to revert at once to human semblance, leaving Seiichi Iwadare ashen-face, blood pumping from the stump of his wrist and the bullet wounds. A crimson mist began to issue from his lips--the night breed abandoning its host like the coward it was.

"Hanae..." Seiichi whispered as the breed abandoned him, then slumped into unconsciousness. Shido doubted he would ever wake up; even if he could get treatment in time for his injuries the shock of the breed ripping free from their bond against his will was also tremendous.

The breed itself twisted in the air like a scarlet shadow, then arrowed towards the nearest window, intent on escape, but Shido was having none of that. He sprang, slicing down with the bloodsword and felt the blade sink home into the breed's shadow form.

"Return to the darkness!" he shouted aloud, driving his will through the bloodsword against the monster. Patches of blue fire erupted throughout its shadowy form, growing and merging until they had burned the night breed away to nothing. He let out a deep sigh and let himself relax. Yayoi already had her cell phone out, calling paramedics in case Seiichi would live to be jailed for murder.

Hanae's screams had subsided into helpless whimpers as she stared at the ruin of her life. First music had abandoned her, then love. Seiichi had loved her, Shido reflected, but it had been a grasping, covetous love. When she hadn't provided the chance for him to fill the role he wanted, he'd given way to frustration, opened himself to the dark and a devil's promise.

Shido thought of Riho, of how Cain's vision of her had shown her succumbing to despair from his own rejection. Did that mean she was the same as Seiichi? Or that Hanae had to bear the responsibility for the ruins of her life? What did it mean for Shido's future?

As Shido walked from the room Cain's mocking laughter seemed to echo in his ears.


End file.
